


Make Me

by Spider_Lilly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: But mostly fluff, Demon!Dean, Fluff and Angst, M/M, s9 spoilers, series continuation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spider_Lilly/pseuds/Spider_Lilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean wakes up a knight of hell, he leaves to save Sam the pain of knowing his brother is a demon. But Sam knows and is determined to stop at nothing to save his brother. Castiel is trying to organize heaven, but his grace is quickly fading and he must flee to earth or die. Dean wants to help, but an angel cannot trust a demon; if that’s truly what Dean is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a story going off of the end of S9. It's basically a short fluff series right now, but the things I write can turn pretty dark pretty quick, so we'll see where this goes. cross posted from my Tumblr.

He was different, he could feel it, but it wasn’t…bad. He knew bad. Hell, he was Dean fucking Winchester, he practically wrote the book on fucking things up. But for the first time in, shit, before the apocalypse, he actually felt pretty good. He opened his eyes, aware, vaguely, that Crowley was talking to him. Which is just what he needed, that annoying British ass yapping at him while he was dead, or dying, or whatever.

He flicked his eyes towards Crowley and the air shimmered. The air was alive with every color ever known, all pulling in different directions. He had no idea what was going on, but he had little time to question it because Crowley smirked, reached out his hand, and they were gone.

“Damn it, Crowley!” Dean pulled away as soon as he had a chance. He hated when Cas did that and he hated it more when Crowley did it just on principle. His hand flew to his hip and closed around the hilt of the first blade before he even realized what he was doing. The blade hummed in anticipation but it didn’t feel the way it had before, it wasn’t overpowering.

“Calm down, squirrel,” Crowley said as he raised his hands defensively. “I thought you might want to leave before your little brother actually summoned me.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, but he loosened his grip on the blade. “What the shit is going on, Crowley?”

“Isn’t is obvious?” Crowley waited for Dean to respond but he didn’t move, his hand still resting lightly on the blade. Crowley sighed. “Honestly, Dean, I just explained all of this. You died. Again. Which I am sorry about, by the way, but there really wasn’t anything I could do. But now you’re not dead. Again. Which I also had nothing to do with, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to blame me anyway.”

“Get to the point, Crowley,” Dean growled.

Crowley rolled his eyes “no respect, after everything I’ve done. Well fine. The short of it is you’re a Knight of Hell now. Congrats.”

Dean’s hand dropped from the blade and he stepped back in shock. He couldn’t be a demon. He felt… whole. He felt right. There wasn’t any way he had turned into the one thing they had been fighting so long to stop. How could being a demon feel anything but awful? He turned to run, though to where he wasn’t sure, but Crowley was there, holding a mirror and doing his best to look concerned. Dean snatched the mirror and looked.

His eyes were black. Awful. Soulless. But they didn’t look right. Dean shook as he held the mirror. Of course he would manage to screw up being a demon. When had he ever managed to do something right? He flung the mirror away and it thunked into the ground, embedding deep into the ground.

“Thank you, Crowley,” he said as he turned to walk away.

“Dean? I can help you, you know.”

“I know. I don’t want it.”

Crowley strangled the air. “Why are you boys always so damned stubborn? What? You think you’re just going to waltz into the bunker and get yourself cured? You are a Knight of Hell, Dean. The rules are different. But I could show you how to use your powers. I could show you how to really live.”

“No offence, Crowley, but I’m not interested in anything you have to teach me.” He didn’t look at Crowley. He wished he was somewhere else, anywhere else.  


And then he was.


	2. New

Dirt swirled around his feet in a light breeze. There didn’t really seem to be anything here, wherever here was. Dean would have to figure out how to actually control the teleporting thing quickly. He wandered over towards the only thing close, an old burnt down house. He walked slowly, taking in the world with his new eyes and trying not to panic. As he got closer to the house the colors in the air got brighter. Dark and light swirled together, sometimes more dark than light, sometimes he had to squint as a huge band of canary yellow nearly blinded him.

He hopped over a small fence and tripped over a hunk of metal. He swore and kicked at the twisted fender. He frowned and looked back up to the blackened house. He walked along the fence quickly, his frown deepening as he stepped over old tires and engines. At a break in the fence there was a sign, half fallen and rusted, but still readable. Dean’s frown melted into a sad smile.

_Singer Auto Salvage _. He had come home.__

He looked back towards the burnt house and chuckled. He hadn’t thought this place was even still standing. It was comforting, he supposed, that he could still be sentimental. He thought being a demon would take all of those feelings away. He walked up to the house, running his hands along the rusted out car bodies.

Maybe he was different because the blade made him a demon instead of years in hell. Can’t really say he’s complaining. Going back to hell wasn’t exactly on his top ten list of things to do. He brushed his hand against the blade and it grumbled at him. It wanted blood, but there wasn’t anything around here to kill. 

Dean paused, but then walked into the old house, shaking his head. The fact that blade had a mind of its own wasn’t even the weirdest thing to have happened to him. And as long as he had the power to tell it to shut up he figured he’d be ok.

The house was wrecked. He was surprised there were any walls left standing, honestly. But he could tell where the kitchen was. And the study. Some of the stairs were still standing. And he’d bet money the panic room was still fine, although he probably couldn’t get in there anymore. He ought to rebuild it. For bobby, or maybe just for himself this time. It wasn’t exactly like he could go back to the bunker, there were too many demon-proof rooms. Plus Sam probably needed some space. To grieve, move on, do things right this time. After he figured some stuff out maybe they could start talking, maybe do the holiday thing like a normal family, but as much as it hurt, he couldn’t be around his brother all the time anymore, it would kill them both.

He needed to go into Sioux Falls and collect some supplies. He’d need some wood, nails, and probably a few phones. If he’s gonna set up shop again he should do it right. With Garth out of commission, someone ought to run the phone lines. If other hunters will even talk to him. But he needed to do something first.

He had an angel he needed to talk to. He only hoped he wouldn’t try to kill him on sight.

 

“What?!” Crowley snapped as he materialized in the bunker. 

“Bring my brother back,” Sam snapped back, “take my soul; take whatever you need. Just bring him back now.”

Crowley snorted, “Would if I could, princess. But your brother is beyond me, now.” Sam’s face contorted in confusion but Crowley cut back in before he could ask. “Your brother’s a demon, Sam. Did you really think the blade would let him go that easy?”

Sam froze, his face slowly melting from disbelief to horror. Crowley almost felt a little bad. Almost. He would have left had he not been stuck in another devil’s trap. 

“Wha… but… then summon him! We can cure him, we can-“

“Doesn’t work like that, Moose. He’s not just any old demon, he’s a bloody Knight of Hell. They can’t be summoned, he can’t be cured. Now, if we’re done here, I have things to do.”

Sam pursed his lips but reached down and scraped away part of the trap. “If you’re lying to me-“

“I’m not. And I am officially done with the Winchesters.” He smoked out of the bunker, leaving Sam completely alone.


	3. let's talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean calls Castiel

Dean focused on a random place, a forest he and his father had hunted in once, and disappeared. He reappeared in a forest, but not the one he had been aiming for. He grumbled at the mistake but any secluded forest would do so he didn’t try again. He leaned against one of the massive trees and folded his arms across his chest. He let his eyes slide closed and started to pray.

He had no idea if a demon could pray to an angel, he didn’t know if it worked that way, but it was all he had to go on.

_Cas, I’m sure you’re busy…. I don’t even know if you can hear me, but if you can, we need to talk. Please, it’s Dean, something—_

There was a flash of light and Castiel was there, his face thunderous. His hand was white-knuckled around a strange object and he looked like he was about to beat Dean with it.

“Uh… hey, Cas.”

“How dare you,” Cas growled.

“What?”

“How _dare _you steal his body!” Castiel was practically screaming as he advanced towards Dean. “How _dare _you pretend to be him!”____

“Cas, I’m not pretending! It’s me, I swear!” Dean backed away from the advancing angel, his hands held out in front of him defensively.

“Dean is dead.” Cas followed him, his angel blade falling into his hand.

“Well, yeah, technically, but… damn it, Cas, will you stop trying to kill me for a second and listen.” Cas didn’t stop so Dean reached down and pulled out the blade, both to try and prove he was himself and to possibly protect himself. He didn’t feel like dying today. “Cas, think about it, I’m the only one who can use this.”

Castiel stopped and looked at the blade, his brow furrowing. Dean lifted his sleeve and showed the mark glowing dully against his skin. “But… Metatron said…”

“I died, Cas. But the blade… the blade won’t let me stay dead.”

Castiel’s arm dropped and he stopped his advance, looking at Dean first in relief and then in horror. Dean put the blade away and it practically growled at him, but obeyed.

“So you’re…”

“A knight of hell. Mostly. Sort of. I’m still trying to figure it out, but I don’t wanna kill anyone, Cas.”

Cas smiled gently, but put his hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes. “I can’t see your soul, Dean. Something’s….” he seemed to change his mind at the last minute, “I’m happy you’re alive.”

Dean came closer, but not as close as he wanted to. Things might be different now. They could be like oil and water. He knew Cas had been friends with Meg, but she hadn’t been a knight. But Cas was clearly struggling with something and bad things tended to happen when Cas struggled with things alone. “Hey, Cas, talk to me.”

“I’m just… tired, Dean. It isn’t important.”

“Hey.” His voice was firm, “Something’s bothering you, so it’s important.”

Cas looked at him and pursed his lips, but sighed and gave in. “The other angels, they want me to lead them. But…” Cas chuckled but it sounded cruel, “how am I supposed to do that? I don’t exactly have the best history leading people, and… and my borrowed grace is draining away.”

Dean felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t let it show. He smiled reassuringly as he fought down the urge to wrap the angel in a hug and never let go. “Can’t you find your grace? Or… find some extra grace or something?”

“Maybe, it’s something we need to look into, but—“

“No buts, Cas. You’re a good leader. Heaven needs a leader so… I think you should do it. You can lead heaven and I can... avoid going to hell… again.”

Cas gave a half smile and nodded. “Alright, Dean. What are you going to tell Sam?”

Dean could tell he was changing the subject but he let it happen. “I’m gonna let him think I died. For a while anyway. He needs to move on and if he finds out what happened… I’m afraid he won’t be able to let go.”

“Dean, that doesn’t seem like—”

“It’ll be fine, Cas. Sam’s strong. He’s— he’s never need me like I need him. Promise you won’t run off and tell him.”

“Dean…”

“Promise.”

“Alright, I promise.” Castiel’s frown deepened but Dean was sure he wouldn’t go back on his word. “I need to return to heaven.” He looked around and seemed to notice where they were for the first time. “Why are we in the Sequoia National Forest?”

“Haven’t gotten total control of the teleporting thing yet.”

“Then I think I shouldn’t ask you for a ride.” At Dean’s confused look he continued, “heaven may be reopened, but our wings have not come back. This,” he lifted the object he had appeared with “is an artifact of heaven. It lets us go down quickly, but not up. I need to get back to the door to get to heaven.”

“oh, sorry. I guess I didn’t really think—”

“It’s fine, Dean. Someone should be able to make a new door closer to here.” He turned, seeming to decide which direction to walk. He turned back quickly “I will have to tell the others about what happened to you. We will need to watch you.”

“I figured. Just let them know… let them know I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but I don’t exactly intend to start doing crossroad deals or anything.”

“I will let them know, Dean.”

“See you soon, Cas.”

Cas nodded and Dean disappeared. Cas sent a quick request over angel radio and one of his sisters replied, saying they would have the door open momentarily.

He wanted to be happy Dean was alive. The pain he had felt when hearing Dean was dead was unbearable, he hadn’t imagined he could feel worse, but seeing Dean as a demon… that was worse. He wanted to believe that Dean was telling the truth, but demons lie and he wasn’t going to let his feelings cloud his judgment again.

He couldn’t trust this Dean. And he couldn’t tell him that he was dying.


	4. Plans

Sam paced the bunker library. Cas wasn’t answering his prayers, he didn’t know if he was alive or what had happened to Metatron, but he did know that his brother was out there and he was dangerous. He had to assume the worst. Cas was dead and Metatron was still in control of heaven, Dean was a demon and Sam was alone. He wasn’t sure if he could take on heaven and hell alone, but he had to try. He would find Dean and cure him, no matter what it takes, even if Dean resists he’d find a way. And if he couldn’t then… then he’d keep Dean from hurting anyone. He wouldn’t let his brother stay a monster, even if it meant he had to kill him.

He disappeared into the stacks. He would need a spell to immobilize a powerful demon, or possibly… he would deal with that when he had to. It wouldn’t hurt to find a way to protect himself against angels, either. Damn, he wished Garth wasn’t off being a werewolf. He wished Kevin wasn’t dead, or Bobby. He wished his brother was here. But he would do what he needed to. No matter what it took.

 

Castiel was tired. His brothers and sisters were returning happily to their jobs, but no one seemed to be able to do anything without asking him first. And everything was ten times harder because everyone’s wings were still ruined. Their medics said that now that heaven was reopened, their feathers would start to grow back fairly soon. Which meant that soon everyone would be grouchy and itchy. Reliving his fledgling days was not something he had ever wanted to do, but now he just hoped he would live that long.

Metatron was being predictably unhelpful, but Castiel still didn’t know any other avenues. He didn’t know where his grace was and he couldn’t just take someone else’s again, even if they offered. And they had offered. A few of the younger angels had come to him, they had heard rumors and wanted to help. They said they loved earth and wouldn’t mind going back, which is great. But he isn’t going to take their grace. He would figure something out, maybe try and track his own grace. But he had some time, and his brothers and sisters needed him. So he would get everything in order and if he lived then he lived, and if he died… well then at least heaven would be up and running again.

 

Dean swore as he smacked his thumb with a hammer again. Demon or not, that hurt like a bitch. As he shook out his hand he started to rethink his rebuilding the house by hand. He could probably figure out how to magic the house together but he had wanted to do it the human way. The human way took a damn long time. He ought to take a break. Maybe work on a car, practice his teleporting, something that didn’t involve nails. Or hammers.  
He set the hammer down on the floor and baked away from the wall. It was only the first one, but it was about half done, so it was time for a break anyway. He was thinking about expanding the house. He wanted to keep it mostly the same, but just a bit bigger, more sturdy. Bobby wouldn’t mind, probably would have yelled at him for not doing it while he was still alive.

He pulled a beer out of the cooler and walked out into the grass. He sat down and breathed deep, taking a swig from the bottle. He felt really good, throbbing thumb aside. The color thing hadn’t gone away, but he had gotten used to it. He would figure out what it meant at some point, but he wanted to finish the house first. It was probably a demon thing, and since he wasn’t planning on living like a demon it didn’t matter.

He let his eyes drift close, enjoying the sun, when he felt a sort of tingling nudge on the back of his skull. It was a strange feeling, almost like a persistent pulling. He focused on it, trying to figure out what it was and suddenly he was in some random suburb. The cookie cutter houses rose up in the distance, but he was surrounded by half-constructed condos. He was standing at a crossroad surrounded by half-constructed condos, to be exact.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean turned to see what desperate jack ass wanted to toss out his soul. He was met with the sight of a boy, probably about twelve, who looked like he was fighting back tears. Color came from him in soft yellows and greens.

“I wanna make a deal.” He looked so serious Dean was taken aback. “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you, kid. What the hell you summoning demons for?”

“I heard my cousin talking about this stuff. Devil worship or whatever. She had a book on how to do it, I figured I’d give it a shot. Are you going to make a deal or not.”

“No, you’re like, twelve. I’m not taking your soul. You wouldn’t even get to enjoy whatever it is you want.”

“I don’t need to enjoy it. I just need my dad to stop beating the shit out of me and my little sister.”

Dean opened his mouth and closed it with a snap. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t take this kid’s soul, and he was pretty sure he had to take something to make a deal, and he couldn’t just leave him because some other demon would show up who would have no problems making a deal with this kid. And he knew the kid wouldn’t give up. He knew the look in his eyes.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Michael.” Of course it was.

“Well, Mike,”

“ _Michael _.”__

__“Michael, the truth is I haven’t been a demon for very long. I’m not very good at it.” Michael’s face fell and Dean rushed on before the kid could start crying or swearing or something. “But I don’t want to leave you or your little sister. I might know a thing or two about less than great dads.”_ _

__“Yeah?” Michael looked skeptical, but that was ok, he didn’t need to believe him._ _

__“Yeah. You got a mom?”_ _

__“Dead.”_ _

__“Not in a fire, I hope.”_ _

__Michael looked at him strangely. “Drunk driver. And before you ask, we don’t have grandparents or anything. It’s just our dad.”_ _

__“Well, Michael… I’d rather not kill your dad. Not that he doesn’t deserve it, but I’m tryin’ to not go down that road. You and your sister can stay with me if you’d like. Your dad won’t find you.”_ _

__Michael hadn’t really stopped looking at him strangely, but he also wasn’t running in fear so he had to at least be considering it. “You won’t… eat us or anything?”_ _

__“Nope. Recently human, remember? I’m mostly looking to hide out, just like you are.”_ _

__“Cool. Let’s go get my sister.”_ _


	5. Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing pretty well at updating once a week, which is supper weird for me, but good weird. But I've decided I'm going to try and update on Mondays instead of whenever I happen to have a day off. Honestly I'll probably screw it up before this story is over, but hopefully not too badly. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left reviews and kudos so far. ^_^

Dean had managed to finish the walls and was almost done with the roof. Which was good because the kids were getting a little tired of the camping thing he had set up. He looked down and everything seemed to be going smoothly.

After Dean had brought Michael and his little sister Julia back, he had realized that there might be more kids screwing up their afterlives to get out of bad situations. He didn’t want Crowley to sink his claws into a bunch of venerable kids, but he couldn’t be sure that weird call was for an idiot adult, or a kid. But he wanted to help.

He set up Michael and Julia in a tent, which, yeah, he stole, but he was demon. It’s not like it mattered. After they were fed and sleeping he would follow the tingling summons. Sometimes it was an adult, who he generally told to go deal with their shit, but if he got a kid, he offered the same deal he gave Michael. Most of them took it and now he had a little gathering of sixteen kids ranging from four to seventeen.

Right now they were all cleaning up the breakfast dishes assembly line style. He stopped and smiled as little Julia and Carl ran back and forth on their little legs, carrying the plates and glasses to their bins near the tents. They were absolutely adorable. Although Carl was sort of a weird name for a little kid, in Dean’s opinion. They were working on a nickname. At least until the boy was, like, thirty.

Soul, one of the seventeen year olds, finished up what he was washing and started heading over. His parents had been hippies, and had loved him and his sisters, Sage and Summer, but they had died and the three had been sent into foster care. 

Dean slid down the roof and landed on the ground with a thud, whipping his hands with his shirt out of habit more than from the existence of sweat. Soul smiled and gave a little wave as he walked up.

“Breakfast dishes are almost done.”

“Great. Have Abby set up with the under-ten kids for workbook time. We’re going to finish up the house so everyone can move out of those tents tonight.”

“Ok, but…”

Dean raised an eyebrow as Soul trailed off and shifted his gaze towards the junk yard. “But what?”

“Some of us were wondering… if maybe after everyone was moved in we could maybe… start learning to hunt?”

“No.”

“But Dean! How are we supposed to be able to protect ourselves from what’s out there if you never teach us?”

“Learning to protect yourselves and learning to hunt are two totally different things,” Dean snapped. “I don’t want you kids getting dragged into this war.”

“With all due respect, we’re already involved. Everyone is. I mean, what you’ve told us, about what we almost did, about the apocalypse, earth has been in this war for a long time. Don’t we need as many soldiers as possible?”

“You are not soldiers.” Dean’s face remained a mask of disapproval, but inside he was terrified. He had wanted to protect these kids, and if he let them hunt it would only be a matter of time before he saw them killed or worse. But how long would they just listen to him? He learned from Krissy that teenagers liked to do a lot of things, and listening to adults who actually knew what they were doing was not on that list. “And I didn’t tell you everything about the apocalypse. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“So tell us. I’m not saying teach the little kids right now. I’m just saying let us learn and then decide if we want to risk it. It would be good to know what to do if Carly is off being a neurosurgeon or whatever and one of her co-workers gets possessed or something.” As he talked the colors flowing out of him got brighter. His natural pastel yellows and oranges turned deeper and vibrant. Dean ignored it, that sort of thing seemed to happen whenever people feel strongly about things, which happened a lot when living with children.

Dean couldn’t really argue with that logic. It wouldn’t hurt to send them out in the world knowledgeable. “Alright. We’ll talk about it. But first we need to get everyone moved in. And we need to get you all set up in an actual school. Somehow.”

Soul grinned and ran off to tell the others. Dean added it to his mental list.

_You seein’ this shit, Cas? The things I put up with._

__He didn’t know if Cas listened to him, but it was nice to think he could hear._ _

__

__Sam must have pulled every book in the library off of the shelf, but he couldn’t find anything useful. This was new territory, which would be exciting if he wasn’t trying to save his brother. He kicked over a pile of books and threw his head into his hands. This was impossible. How was he supposed to move forward if there wasn’t anything to go off of?_ _

__The phone rang and Sam sighed before pulling it out of his pocket and answering._ _

__“Sam, hey, it’s Jeff. Me and some other hunters found a vamp nest outside of Portland. Did you and Dean wanna come hit this up?”_ _

__“Dean is… sick.”_ _

__“Oh, well you wanna come by yourself? There’s nearly twenty of these bastards and they’ve been taking kids off the streets.”_ _

__He needed to work on saving Dean. But he wasn’t getting anywhere and maybe a break would give him the chance to figure out his next move. It would be nice to just focus on something simple. A nice black and white case would help clear his mind._ _

__“Sure. I should be able to get there by tomorrow morning.”_ _

__“Great, we’ll text you the address of the motel we’re staying at.”_ _

__They said goodbye and hung up. Sam stayed at the table for a moment, taking a breath. He got up and headed to his room to pack. He wouldn’t need much and he needed to get out of the bunker fast._ _

__

__Castiel’s head was buzzing. His grace had been waning at an alarming rate and despite what he said, his brothers and sisters had taken it upon themselves to try and find his grace. He had told them to just focus on getting heaven back in order, but they had insisted that things were running well enough and they weren’t willing to let him die._ _

__It was flattering. More than flattering. And Castiel wanted to thank them, but he had been so tired lately. He needed to go check on how things were running. The others seemed to feel better when he was checking on things. But he couldn’t seem to get up._ _

__“Hello, brother.”_ _

__“Azrael.” Castiel cracked an eye open and observed the other angel, smiling at him gently. “I appreciate the visit, but I think I would feel better if it wasn’t you.”_ _

__Azrael chuckled. “I have not come to counsel you, Castiel. I have come to talk of your plan to send angels to earth.”_ _

__Castiel struggled to sit up but gave up and flopped back down. “I feel it could help remind our brothers and sisters what our original mission.”_ _

__“I agree. Although I disagree with your intention to only send a few. I believe everyone could benefit and it could prevent the events of the past few years from repeating.”_ _

__“We can’t just empty heaven, Azrael. It isn’t feasible.”_ _

__“I was thinking we might set up a mandatory rotation. And I think you should be one of the firsts.”_ _

__Castiel didn’t respond, choosing instead to look at his brother as if he’d lost his mind, which Castiel was fairly certain he had._ _

__“Your body is failing, brother. I know I said I didn’t come to counsel you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can sense it. Heaven is corrupting your stolen grace faster than it would be on heaven. You should leave the hunt to us, and go live as a human on earth. Conserve your energy.”_ _

__“But the other angels, they need me.”_ _

__“They need you alive, brother. Which you won’t be for long if you don’t take steps.”_ _

__Castiel pursed his lips but Azrael stood unmoving. He would not be convinced that Castiel should stay in heaven. It would be easiest to just listen to him and the faster he agreed, the sooner he could sleep. He let his eyes slide closed again and nodded._ _

__“You’re making the right choice, brother,” Azrael said as he laid a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “And I have found the perfect place for you to heal.”_ _


	6. Grouping Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn't try to promise things. Because then I end up procrastinating and then I end up having to work and, bla. Well I'm still working on it.
> 
> Oh, i'm also planning on changing the story summary, and possibly title because I don't really like either. I'll say what the new title is going to be before changing it, but don't be surprised if the summary looks a bit different. :)

Sam wiped the blood and sweat from his face. The fight had seemed a bit dodgy in the middle, but the vamps were dead and he felt good. It was nice to get back to actual hunting. Although he knew he still had serious problems to deal with.

Greg tossed him a beer and Sam grabbed it out of the air. He knew most of the guys here, vaguely. Greg had called asking for help on a case once, Mark he had seen at the Road House before it burned down, Jeff he knew from working a case in Tulsa once, and he’d heard of Tony from other hunters. He wouldn’t call them friends, exactly, but he knew them and they were good at their jobs. They had been ok to work with. A lot different than his brother, but Sam had needed a break from obsessing over Dean.

“Thanks for helping out, Sam,” Jeff said, popping the tab on his own beer.

“No problem.”

“It’s kind of nice having a simple job,” Tony said as he climbed into the back of the car. They had decided to car pool. Mark was worried about pollution, or something.

“Yeah, I tell ya, we’ve really been suffering on the research front since Bobby passed.” The group nodded and Sam frowned. He hadn’t realized how important Bobby’s library had been. Bobby, of course, was irreplaceable. And he’d probably still feel horrible about his death if he hadn’t escorted him to heaven himself. Bobby was probably chilling at the Road House with everyone else, and he deserved it.

But if the hunters didn’t have access to the lore they needed that meant that people were dying.

“Hey… guys, you know Dean and I found this huge old library full of lore, right?”

“... What?”

“Yeah, it’s the old Men of Letters bunker. Dean and I are legacies. You can’t get in without the key, but if you ever need research help, you can just give me a call.”

“Whoa, it’s a whole bunker?” Tom asked, sticking his head out of the car.

“Yeah.”

“You got extra beds?”

“…Yeeeah.”

“Mind if I crash with you for a few nights? All of my credit cards have been flagged.”

The other three fixed him with an expectant stare. It was clear if he said ok to Tony, the others would invite themselves along. Cheap housing is preciously scarce among hunters.

Sam sighed. “Fine, you can all come. But if you stay you gotta help me with a case I’m working.”

They all mumbled agreements as they plopped into the car. It was an SUV sort of thing, so there was enough room for the five grown men. Sam slid into the passenger seat because everyone had agreed he was too tall to sit in the back. They would drive back to the motel and get in their own cars. Sam could lead them to the bunker after that. He was hoping that after he told them about the demon cure the Men of Letters discovered, they might have an idea of how to save Dean.

 

Dean was overseeing lunch. The house was finished and everyone had moved into their bedrooms, and now Dean was contemplating making a school section over the tuna salad he was currently making. He wasn’t sure what possessed him, heh, to make tuna salad. The little ones refused to eat it, and Carlos thought fish were devil spawn or something, so he’d end up making at least three jelly sandwiches. And then Carl would cry about not having peanut butter, but they couldn’t have peanut butter because they had discovered that Carly was severely allergic. Like, can’t even be in the same room allergic. And basically this was a bad idea, but he was doing it anyway.

How had his life become so domestic? Maybe it was just a… weird mark of Cain thing. After all, the real Cain had retired and raised Bees. Maybe kids were just his bees. He should get more; have them make honey.

Carlos and his twin Ramiro, _Remmy _, Dean,__ ran past. Dean pushed up close to the counter to get out of the way. He’d honestly given up yelling about running in the house. If they broke something they would have to fix it.

Dean was just beginning to put the tuna-y mess onto bread when Alec stuck his head into the kitchen.

“uh… Dean, there are… people outside.”

Dean looked at the boy strangely before putting the bowl down. “Ok,” he said, feigning calmness, “finish up these sandwiches for me. I’ll go see what they want.”

Alec nodded and moved to take the spoon. Dean wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to the front door. He pulled it open not sure what to expect. Police, concerned neighbors, or demons. He’d hope he would have sensed demons, but he kind of sucks at the whole ‘demon powers’ thing so who knows.

An unknown angle stood on his porch. He knew because he could feel it, the raw power rolling off of him could only be angelic. That, and he was supporting Castiel with one arm.

“Cas!” Dean surged forward, taking the angel from his brother. Castiel’s head lolled as his weight shifted and his eyes flicked open slightly.

“Hello, Dean,” he croaked.

“Castiel is… tired,” the unknown angel said. “Heaven was draining his remaining grace rapidly. He needs a place to rest. Conserve his strength. It was agreed that you were the best choice.”

Dean’s head whipped up in shock. “Me? why me? In case you guys didn’t notice, I’m kind of… a demon. Why would you pick me?”

The angel looked at him, eyebrow raised and a small smile playing at his lips. What the hell was that look for? Dean frowned and opened his mouth to say something, though what, he didn’t know, when the angel interrupted him.

“We decided you would protect him. Castiel is… important.”

Dean shut his mouth and nodded. The angel nodded back before disappearing. Their wings must have healed. Or, some of them at least. He wondered if Cas’ had healed, or if his depleting grace had made that impossible.

“c’mon, Cas, let’s get you inside.” He hoisted Cas up so he was supporting more of his weight. Cas murmured something he couldn’t hear. “I know, buddy, I know.” He half dragged him into the house.

Margo was waiting by the stairs, gun in hand. “Damn, it. What have I said about guns?” he whispered as sternly as he could manage.

“Only for emergencies. This looked a lot like an emergency to me.”

Dean couldn’t blame Margo for being jumpy, but he couldn’t have her waiving guns at the slightest provocation, either. “You and me are gonna have a talk about what constitutes an emergency later. Now go get lunch while I get my friend settled.”

Margo sighed heavily as she pushed off from the banister. “Carl wants spaghetti-o’s, but I think we’re out.”

“I think there’s a couple cans in the panic room. I’ll go get more later, so it should be ok this once.”

She nodded and headed to go get the pasta. Normally Dean wouldn’t bend on his ‘Don’t eat food from the panic room’ but he couldn’t deal with Carl’s pickiness right now.

Dean half dragged, half carried Cas up the stairs and into one of the empty rooms. He flopped him onto the bed with a grunt. Cas was heavy, damn it.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Dean. Dean smiled and brushed the hair from his face. “Sleep,” he whispered, “I’ll make you some soup when you wake up. Okay?”

Castiel nodded and let his eyes slide closed. Dean slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him silently.

 

Castiel was trying to remember something. Something about Dean. He couldn’t remember anything. He was on a bed, on earth, but he couldn’t remember why. He was so tired, but he had to remember.

Something about Dean.

Dean.

Dean was…

Dean was going to make him soup.

Castiel relaxed, sure that he had remembered, and let himself fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam unlocked the bunker and stepped aside, inviting the others in with a flourish. The other hunters stumble in, not taking a moment to appreciate the situation. Sam grumbled as he followed them in. They were the first hunters let in here in a long time. And this place was friggen cool, they should be more awed. 

The other guys dropped their stuff on the floor and looked around the main room of the bunker appraisingly. “This place is pretty awesome,” Tony said, moving towards the library.

“Yeah, the Men of Letters were researchers. They collected a ton of information, cursed objects, there’s a freaken dungeon here!” Sam had wanted to share the bunker with people for a while. But Dean had been so happy to have a place he considered his own home, Sam hadn’t wanted to encroach on that. It was one thing to have Kevin and Charlie here, they were family, but to invite random hunters? No, Dean wouldn’t have liked that.

“Dungeons?” Mark seemed a bit too enthusiastic about that, but Sam brushed it aside.

“Yeah, they used them to hold demons. Get information… cure them.”

They all turned and looked at him, Sam shifted awkwardly under their gaze. 

“….I’m gonna ask you about that in a minute,” Jeff said, “but first, does this place have a shower?”

“Just through there.” Sam pointed down the hall and Jeff grabbed his bag as he headed down to find the showers.

“Actually, guys, I wanted to ask you-“

“Let’s put our stuff away first, ay, Sam. We can talk shop in a minute, maybe over dinner.”

Sam sighed but nodded and motioned for the other three to follow him to the bedrooms. They could get settled and then Sam could tell them what happened to Dean. And how it happened. They might be more concerned about Metatron, but Sam was hoping to convince them that Dean was more pressing. After all, he had been watching for Metatron, checking the news, the web, everything, every day and the bastard hadn’t made a move. There hadn’t been any more ‘miracles’ or anything. Sam didn’t know what was going on, but he was damned sure he was going to take advantage of it.

After everyone but Jeff had a room and Sam had made sure Jeff hadn’t gotten lost, Sam decided to go see what was in the kitchen. Cooking was Dean’s thing, but he doubted the other guys would want to order pizza or something when there was a chance for real food. He could probably make spaghetti at least.

While Sam blundered about the kitchen, the others unpacked their meager belongings. Mark in particular was feeling hopeful. This library, this collection of tools and knowledge was just what they had been needing. The others might be expecting a short stay, but he was hoping he could convince Sam and Dean to let them make this the base of operations. They could organize the hunters, get everyone on the same page. The amount of lives they could save! It was the best thing for this world.

He just hoped they agreed.

 

The kids were eyeing him warily and it was starting to get on Dean’s nerves. Just because he brought some stranger into the house didn’t mean they were in any danger. And if he didn’t want to explain his angelic best friend upstairs that was his damned business. And anyway, what was he supposed to do? Heal Cas? Nurse him back to health? Parade him around the living room like some kind of prize? He was out of his depth. 

Cas had never been this sick before. He had lost his grace before, it felt like a hundred times before, but he had never been so sick. The stolen grace was burning him from the inside out and he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t lose Cas, not again. And he sure as hell couldn’t trust the other angels to save him.

“Uh… Dean?” Alec split off from the group and approached him slowly.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“Your eyes keep flicking from normal to black. It’s kinda freaking us out.”

“oh.” He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He couldn't feel when his eyes shifted all the time and it could lead to some awkward situations. “Sorry, I’m just stressed.”

“Because your boyfriend’s sick?”

“Whoa, what? Friend. Cas is a friend.”

Alec nodded sympathetically. “No judgment.” 

Dean glared at the teen, but was careful to control his eyes. “Seriously. We fought in the apocalypse together. He’s… he’s my best friend. But you’re right he’s sick. Really sick. So we’re gonna have to be quiet, let him rest.”

“Oh, sure. Are we still gonna start those classes, or…” 

“Yeah, buddy. Just give me a minute. I’m gonna go check on Cas. Will you go get everyone old enough for knife safety to go into the kitchen? It should be just about time for the little one’s naps."

“kay, I’ll tell the others about Cas.”

“Thanks, be back in a minute.”

Alec walked back to the group as Dean headed upstairs. Margo raised her arms, asking what was going on. The others turned to look at him, except for Summer, who was trying to braid Carly’s hair and didn’t really care about Dean’s mood. It was nice that she trusted him so much. The others were still working on it, though they trusted him more than anyone else.

“He’s worried about the guy upstairs, Cas.”

“So he was just worried about his boyfriend,” Margo said, shooting Soul a smug look.

“We don’t know they're dating,” Soul shot back.

“I know what I saw. He was practically carrying that guy up the stairs bridal style! And the way he was looking at him…” she scoffed. “If they aren’t dating then they’ve got some serious UST going on.”

“What’s UST?” Summer asked, looking up from the failed braid.

“Uh… unicorn… scent… tracking,” Soul mumbled. Summer frowned at her brother and rolled her eyes. She was seven years old. She knew unicorns only lived in Europe.

“Well whatever their relationship is, it’s none of our business.” Alec said, glaring at all of them. 

“I didn’t care anyway,” Abby said with a roll of her eyes. She scooped up Carl and Julia, who had been playing on the floor near the older kids. “It’s naptime for you guys.”

Carl protested, but allowed himself to be picked up. Julia had been half asleep already, she hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Nightmares.

“I can take them,” Michael said.

“Here, you take Julia. I’ll take Carl.” She handed the little girl to her brother and they headed upstairs.

“Come back to the kitchen after they’re down. We’re gonna have knife lessons.”

“Cool.” Abby said over her shoulder.

“Alright guys, let’s be cool about this Cas thing, or whatever,” Alec said, eyeing the others. Margo in particular. 

She shrugged. “Whatever. Let them work out their Shit on their own.”

They all filed into the kitchen, except for Summer and Josh, because Dean thought seven was a bit too young to be handling weapons.

 

Cas hadn’t woken up yet, but he looked peaceful. Not in pain or anything. And he was breathing, so Dean couldn’t have fucked up too badly. At least not yet anyway.

He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. He’d have to go downstairs eventually. The kids did deserve to know how to defend themselves, and he was the only one who could teach them. But for now he just needed to sit. Make sure Cas was ok. That he was still alive, still breathing, still here with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I dropped a week because of my birthday, and then I dropped another because of GISHWHES. But I'm back and I miiiight be about to get a job with steady hours, which would mean I could get on a writing schedule and start updating regularly like I wanted to. :)

Night had settled over the house. Everyone was tucked into bed and asleep. There were no more stories to read, no more glasses of water, and Dean was restless. He had checked on Cas at least ten times. He had even made the angel a bowl of soup in case he woke up. He was checking their hex bags and sigils again, but he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

He headed outside, lifting his face to the bright light of the full moon. He needed to run, to do… something. He started walking, then jogging, and then he was running, the land whipping past him. He didn’t know where he was going, but that didn’t slow him down.

He came to in a warehouse surrounded by bodies. It should bother him, he knows, intellectually at least, but it doesn’t. The blade hums contentedly in his hand as he observes the carnage. He felt outside of everything. He couldn’t comprehend the death in front of him because it was on a whole different plane, completely removed from himself. 

He turned and walked away, stepping on corpses as he went. He could just smoke out, he supposed. He had gotten better at that. But the thought didn’t occur to him until he had started walking, so he figured he would just keep doing that.

He was almost to the door when Crowley appeared, red-faced and clearly pissed off. Dean regarded him sleepily before trying to walk around him.

“Dean!” Crowley snapped. Dean turned slowly, his eyelids feeling heavier than they had in a long time. “I’ve put up with a lot of shit from you, Winchester. I didn’t chase after you when you had your little hissy. I didn’t track you down when you started stealing my clients. But killing my demons is too much!”

Fire flooded his veins and his exhaustion faded. He turned on Crowley and crossed the short distance between them in a blink of an eye. His grip on the blade tightened and he growled low in his throat. “I’ll do what I want. I’ll kill a thousand demons if I want, I’ll tear down all of hell and you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

Crowley chuckled and shook his head. “I won’t have to. There are forces at work here that you can’t possibly begin to understand. But go ahead. Destroy everything.” He sauntered away from Dean, turning to look at him at the last second. “That is, after all, what you’re good at.” 

He disappeared and Dean squinted at the place he had been. He didn’t put any stock into what Crowley said. He could tell the demon was scared. Still, he felt a little bad. Crowley had been helpful before, and he never seemed to want to outright kill them. He might be being too harsh.

He wouldn’t outright kill demons any more. He suspected the blade might make him kill if he goes too long without it. But he could always hunt in the normal way until he had more control. He would figure it out later; he needed to go home now. 

 

Castiel woke in a strange room. He looked around as he tried to process what happened. Slowly, he remembered coming to earth and being left with Dean. But this didn’t look like the bunker. He noticed a bowl of soup by the bed- tomato and rice. He was definitely with Dean, wherever they were.

He poked at the soup but it had gone cold. He abandoned it in favor of getting out of bed. He pushed the covers back and swung his legs around. He was a bit shaky, which was annoying, but his legs would hold him. 

“Dean?” he called out softly when he had reached the door, poking his head out into the hallway. It was frustrating not knowing what was going on, but he didn’t want to call attention to himself if they were hiding from demons or something. No one answered and so he moved out further into the house. He descended the stairs   
quietly and turned right, finding himself in a kitchen. And face to face with several children.

“Holy shit, he’s awake,” one of the shorter girls whispered.

“Dean’s not home. What do we do?” another of the medium children asked, turning to the taller children.

The tallest boy shushed them and then turned to Castiel. “Hi,” he said, extending his hand to Castiel, “My name’s Soul.”

Cas looked at the offered hand, but didn’t take it. He had learned the custom of shaking hands when he had been human, but he still thought it was stupid. And he was an angel again, at least for now, and he didn’t have to participate in stupid human customs. Instead he looked up at the boy and squinted. “That’s an… interesting name.”

“Yeah, my parents wanted to be unique.” Soul said, clearly uncomfortable. He retracted his hand and absentmindedly wiped it on his pants.

“You mentioned Dean. Where is he? Why are you all with him?”

“He leaves sometimes,” another of the tall boys, this one with sandy blond hair, said. “We don’t know where he goes exactly. I’m Alec, by the way.” 

“Dean should be back soon,” Soul said with a gentle smile.

“Where are we? Who are you?”

“Dean saved us!” one of the younger girls shouted. One of the older girls shushed them and started herding them into another room, grabbing juice boxes on the way out and giving the blond boy a look that Cas couldn’t decipher. 

Soul smiled reassuringly and leaned against the table. “Dean saved us from some bad decisions we were making. Took us in, built us this place. But he needs to go out sometimes.” Soul shrugged. “sometimes he comes back with new kids, sometimes he comes home… covered in blood. We don’t talk about it. We don’t know exactly who you are to him, or what you know, but he’s still a good guy. And he should be home soon.”

Cas stared at the remaining children blankly as he remembered what had happened. Metatron, Dean, everything. Why had his brother brought him here? Did they want him to die? He felt dizzy, and worse than he had ever felt as a human.

The front door slammed open and Cas jumped. Dean looked through the kitchen doorway, his face splattered with blood. His eyes landed on Cas and he smiled. Castiel didn’t return the gesture, focused on the blood covering his friend. Dean noticed the angel’s semi-horified gaze and his smile disappeared, his hand coming up heasitantly to touch his face, wondering what was wrong. When he pulled his hand away red with blood he realized what was wrong.

“It’s demon blood,” he said quickly. “I… had a bit of a run in.”

Cas nodded slowly. “Maybe you should go shower.”

Dean nodded and started to walk away. He popped his head back into the doorway. “we’ll talk after?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I am not so ill that human children will be able to kill me.”

“That’s not what I… whatever. See you in a bit.”

Cas nodded solemnly as Dean’s head disappeared again. He turned to look at the children, only to find that they had gone out the other door. He frowned. He didn’t want to follow them, so he decided to go back to his room. Dean would find him there, and then they could talk. And maybe he could get a nap in before Dean came.


	9. A Hunter Interlude

Sam handed off a plate of scrambled eggs to the guy working the switchboards. Busy with a call, he nodded in thanks and Sam left to return to the pile of breakfast related items in the kitchen to get himself some. He dodged around other hunters who were grabbing breakfast to go or trying to balance a plate and several books. He managed to grab the last few pieces of bacon and some pancakes before the other latecomers cleared it out.

He took his plate and tried to find an open space in the library. It was hard to believe how fast things had moved after the idea of opening up the bunker to other hunters, but it had worked out really well. Hunters had come flocking to the bunker, eager to have a home base where they could meet up with other hunters, and even more eager to have a place where they knew they would be safe. Those who still had families brought them and now nearly every room was filled.

One of the hunters had been a dispatcher for a trucking company and had a knack for organization and had taken over the new “rotation rooms” for the hunters leaving on assignment. They were looking into getting radios for everyone, but for right now everybody had agreed to call in with a progress report at the end of the day. They had a chance to get more organized, and even though a few had grumbled in the beginning, it was easy to see how checking in would make their work less dangerous.

Sam had been shunted to the side for quite a lot of this. He was a well-known and, generally, a respected hunter, but he was still on the younger side. And he hadn’t really disagreed with anything that was happening. He liked not being alone anymore. He liked that this job was actually starting to feel like a real job; with safety measures and time off and everything. He honestly wondered why they hadn’t done this before.

He settled himself in his new favorite chair and nodded at the others around him. A young girl smiled at him over her book on ancient Arabian spirits. He recognized her, but couldn’t place her name and so he just smiled back.

Most people who aren’t on assignment have taken to studying. The general consensus was that if they all read something, eventually they would know everything that the Men of Letters had known, will be able to solve cases faster, and might be able to start learning new things and make an actual dent in the whole monster/demon/angel problem that earth seemed to have going on right now. There had even been some scattered talk about restarting the demon trials, although considering what Sam had told them about going through the trials, he was pretty sure that was going to stay just talk.

They didn’t need to go to extremes anymore. They had manpower and resources and could actually make a stand.

He had finished most of his breakfast and had made a decent dent in his research when he caught sight of the newspaper someone had left on the table. It had just been tossed carelessly, the pages scattered from someone else’s research or personal perusings, but one headline stood out.

It was just another article about a missing child, but Sam picked up the paper anyway. Kids went missing all the time, and most of the time it wasn’t hunter business, but this just didn’t feel right.

He read through the article twice and then got up. He deposited his dishes in the kitchen on the way to the archive room. When he got there, he pulled out the newspapers for the last week or so and spread them out on the table.

He pulled all the articles on missing kids and started going through them. A few people stopped in, some offered to help, others grabbed some newspapers, but he ignored all of them. He liked all the new people in the bunker, but he wasn’t so good at playing nice.

He poured over the newspapers, and something was definitely off. The kids all disappeared without a trace. No leads, no suspects, no notes or ransoms. They were all too close together and too similar. It just seemed unlikely that the Amber Alert wouldn’t save at least one of these kids. Or the cops would have found something.  
No, something wasn’t right here. He didn’t know what was going on. But he was going to figure it out.

 

The kids snuck out of the kitchen when Dean came in. They had all agreed with a quick look that they probably wanted to be alone. They filed out of the kitchen and Alec motioned for the others to follow him. They made their way to the backyard and Alec spun around as soon as his feet hit the grass.

“We should go hunting.”

“What? Have you lost your damned mind?” Soul snapped. “We’ve had, like, two lessons with Dean.”

“Technically we’ve had five.” Margo pointed out with a smirk.

“Oh, my bad. Clearly we are exerts now.”

“I don’t think we’re experts. But we know enough, and Dean isn’t going to let us _actually_ hunt if he can help it. You know it’s true,” Alec said sharply when Soul looked ready to interrupt. “We’ll need to show him we can handle it. Which we _can_ , but we need to prove it. And when are we going to have another chance like this? When is Dean going to be distracted like this again?”

“I’m down,” Margo said with a grin.

Soul ground his teeth as the other two looked at him expectantly. He sighed after a beat and threw his hands in the air. “Fine, I’ll go with you. But only to make sure you idiots don’t die or something.”

Alec smiled and Margo ran off to the shed to grab some weapons. The boys followed and grabbed knives and their preferred guns before heading out past the fence. They looked back every few moments, expecting to see Dean behind them, but they made it over the fence and out onto the road without any problems and started to relax.

“So where are we going?” Margo asked after they had been walking for about thirty minutes.

“Don’t ask me,” Soul grumbled.

“Uh… I just figured we’d go into Sioux Falls. There’s sure to be something supernatural going on there.”

Soul gave the other boy a cold look and fought back the urge to curse. “So you don’t actually have a plan?”

“Look, I didn’t know some random dude was gonna show up, okay? I’m just rolling with things. We can figure out where to go next after we get to Sioux Falls. Catch a bus or something.”

“Oh, sure, great plan,” Soul said, his lips curling into a nasty sneer. “You just got a wad of cash stashed in your pants somewhere?”

“No, but I know how to get money, or get on a bus, no problem. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.”

Soul reached out and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “No.” He forced Alec to look at him. “No, we aren’t doing shit like that anymore.”

“Uh… guys?” Margo whispered as a cop car came into view.

“I only meant-“

“I know damn well what you meant and I won’t let you.”

“Guys,” She said louder. The cop car was slowing down, and it seemed like a good idea for the boys to shut up now. They didn’t hear her, or didn’t pay attention and the argument only got louder. The car pulled over and slowed to a stop. A girl cop stepped out and the boys didn’t even notice.

“We didn’t go with Dean so you could pull this shit the first chance you got!”

“There a problem, boys?”

The new voice finally got their attention and they both looked up, startled. Soul let go of Alec quickly and stepped away. “No ma’am. We’re just peachy.”

“Where you guys coming from?” She asked, her voice gentle but stern.

“We’ve been staying with our uncle. We were just walking into town.” Alec jumped in with a friendly smile.

The officer nodded and looked down the road. “Not much out here but Bobby Singer’s old place.”

“That’s where our uncle is.” Margo butt in.

“And your uncle is… Dean?” All three of them nodded but she didn’t seem convinced. “That wouldn’t be Dean Winchester, would it? He’s the only Dean who would want to stay in that old scrap yard.”

They all paled, Soul couldn’t figure out if agreeing or denying would work best, Alec was shocked, and Margo couldn’t believe their shitty luck. She had just wanted to get out of the house for a bit.

“So you three are Sam Winchester’s kids?” They looked like they had all seen a ghost and that told her all she needed to know. “Alright, kids, get in the car.” She nodded towards the police car and folded her arms to show that she meant business. When they hesitated she continued, “Look, I don’t doubt you know Dean. But you lot look an awful lot like some missing kids we’re looking for. So you can either get in the car and we can go talk to Dean about it, or I can try and take you into the station and call in others to go check out Bobby’s old place.”

Margo was the first to break, sighing dramatically and stomping to the car. Alec followed soon after, more quietly. Soul stayed, his eyes narrowing as he observed the officer. “You know Dean?”

“I do, we go way back.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jody, Jody Mills.”

Soul hesitated for another moment before nodding and getting in the front passenger seat. Jody walked around and got in the driver’s seat without another word and headed off to Singer Salvage.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a little bit early because I work tomorrow at 8 in the morning and I don't wanna wait to post but I know I won't manage it in the morning :)

Dean was planning on taking the fastest shower of his life, but the minute that hot water hit his back he melted. He had worked hard getting the water pressure to be as close to the bunker’s as possible and it was damned close, if he did say so himself.

He ended up staying in the shower longer than planned, but he dried off and got dressed so fast he was pretty sure smoke came off of his skin.

He practically bounded back downstairs, but Cas wasn’t there. Abby said she hadn’t seen him, but suggested he check upstairs, since she hadn’t really heard anyone leave. He thanked her as he left the room. Abby didn’t even bother to be affronted by his briskness. She just wondered if she should take the kids outside now, or wait to see if weird noises start coming from upstairs first. She decided to go halfway and herded the younger kids into the basement to play some board games.

Dean found Cas in the room he had stayed in the night before. He was curled up on the bed, his back to the door. Dean cleared his throat gently and the angel stirred, looking over his shoulder with bleary eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” he croaked, his voice rougher than usual. He turned over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey. You ok?” Dean’s voice was gentle, like he was worried Cas would disappear again if he spoke louder than a whisper.

“Yes, I am much better. Less… exhausted than when I was in heaven. There is less drain on my power here.”

“That’s great!” Dean came forward like he was going to sweep Cas into a hug, but Cas jumped and he wavered. He stepped back and rubbed his hand through his hair. “So…”

“So.”

The tension between them was palatable. Dean didn’t know what to say. His eyes slid around the room, looking anywhere that wasn’t Castiel. His eyes landed on the untouched bowl of soup. “You didn’t eat your soup,” he said, for lack of anything better to say.

“It was cold when I woke up.”

“Oh… I could make you some more?” Dean’s voice was hopeful, but Cas just shook his head.

“I don’t think it would help. My grace is fading but I’m not human.”

“Neither am I,” Dean mumbled. “Still like soup, though.”

“Dean-“

“Heaven must be busy. I mean, I expected you to show up earlier, or at least send someone to check up on me.”

Cas pursed his lips. “Yes, It’s been busy. Heaven is in shambles. And while I’m confident in my brother’s ability to find a way to cure me I’m in just a _bit_ of pain until they figure it out. So I’m sorry that my entire life doesn’t revolve around _you_.”

“That isn’t what I meant! Damn it, Cas, you go and fly off and I don’t see you for months! How is anyone supposed to deal with that shit? I get you’ve got shit to do, and I know it’s important shit. Hell, I’ve got important shit to do. But would it kill you to… I don’t know, call? Send a message? Something? Because I gotta tell you, it really sucks when I don’t know if you’re dead or alive.”

Cas’ face was thunderous, but it passed and his eyes dropped. He sighed and said softly, “I didn’t want to come.”

Dean felt like all the color had drained out of the world. He didn’t know what to say to that, or even if he could say anything. Luckily he didn’t have to. Cas continued as if he hadn’t just shattered every hope Dean ever had. “You aren’t my Dean. You may look like him, but you’re not.” Cas looked up at him from under his lashes. Dean was surprised Cas looked at him at all.

“Cas, I’m still me, I swear!”

“What are you doing with these children, Dean?”

Dean was taken aback. “What do you think I’m doing with them?” His voice was harsh, but he couldn’t believe Cas, of all people, was accusing him of hurting children.

“I don’t pretend to know the plans of Hell,” Cas whispered. His voice was low, but Dean could sense the power behind it. He suspected that it was only Cas’ sickness and their history that had kept him from being a dirty smudge on the ground months ago.

“I’m not working with Hell,” he ground out. “I don’t want anything to do with Hell.” His voice softened when he saw Cas’ confused look. He would have grinned at the familiar confusion in other circumstances. “I’m just… taking care of them, Cas. Teaching them how to defend themselves. They were trying to summon a demon, any demon. I just stepped in. Made sure they didn’t make a mistake that would cost them their souls.”

Cas squinted at him but he didn’t seem to think he was lying, so Dean counted it as progress. “You care about what happens to them?” Cas asked, his voice skeptical.

“Of course I care!”

Cas pursed his lips and looked away, his eyes shining. “I don’t believe it.”

“Cas-“

“I _can’t_ believe it!” Cas snapped, “You already died once. Really, truly died. And I can’t do it again. So don’t you _dare_ act like you’re my Dean only to laugh in my face later! I swear on my Father if that is what you’re doing-“

Cas was standing at this point, his whole body thrown forward as he yelled. Dean surged forward, every inhibition he ever had flying out the window as he cupped the angel’s face. “I’m yours,” he said, his voice rough. His thumb moved across Cas’ cheek, wiping away unshed tears. “I always have been.”

Cas smiled and chuckled softly. “My Dean would never be so openly affectionate.”

“Eh, I think I’m a bit too old to be worrying about what my father will think about my life choices.”

He leaned in and Cas didn’t move away. Dean shivered in anticipation, he was finally going to get to do what he had dreamed of, fantasized about for years. He was centimeters away when there was a knock at the door.

“Sonuvabitch,” He sighed.

Cas chuckled and lifted himself up to bridge the small gap, pressing his lips to Dean’s for one short moment. The kiss was short, but it filled Dean with warmth down to his toes. “Go answer the door, Dean,” Cas said as he pulled away. Dean nodded, dazed. He turned to go down the stairs, unsure if he was going to kill whoever was at the door or not. Cas followed with a self-satisfied smile.

He yanked the door open to find Jody standing there with three of his children. The pit of his stomach dropped when he saw his kids standing there with a police officer, Jody or not. He was definitely going to kill them.

“Dean,” Jody said, her voice was light and friendly but it didn’t set him at ease. “Can I come in for a bit?”

Dean sighed and opened the door wider. He could tell this was going to be a very long day.


End file.
